


Loose Ends

by astridshepard



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astridshepard/pseuds/astridshepard
Summary: He had stood beside her come hell or high water, offered her nothing but his support, and she could not properly repay him in kind. Damn the Reapers for forcing their hand.





	

Water dripped neatly down her back and the towel at her feet was still damp but she was determined to write _something_.

How do you sum up the death of nearly 300,000? How do you write off the biggest favor you’ve ever owed? All to stop the Reapers, only to find out you’re simply delaying them. The greater good never looked more sour. 

The cursor blinked silently, offering no answers.

Her cabin door opened just as her clenched jaw began to ache in protest. Had she been able to speak, she would have objected the interruption, but the owner to those familiar footsteps would have seen through it.

Shepard didn’t bother to look over as Garrus fed her remaining neglected fish before leaning against the wall behind her. Their (admittedly few) liaisons had all started this way. A casual check-in, some banter, before hands moved of their own and clothing found its way to the floor.

Only right now, they couldn’t afford the distraction.

“You need to go to Palaven.”

“Are you sure?” That was much of a fight as she would get. Wasn’t that a sucker punch to the gut.

“People need to start preparing, now, for the Reapers. I won’t be able to join you.” She shook her head before he could get in a word. “Anderson has confirmed we’ll be surrendering the Normandy to Alliance control at the Citadel.” Shepard stood up carefully from her chair only to slump onto edge of the desk, staring at her feet rather than the loose end she wasn’t ready to deal with. “From there I’ll be in custody pending a formal hearing back in Vancouver.”

Garrus’ gaze was steady on her. She could feel that weight as surely as the blank screen at her back. “And then?”

Her shrug was half-hearted. “I don’t know.”

Shepard’s eyes squeezed shut of their own accord as her lungs forgot to take in air. Her knuckles paled from their grip on the desk, trying to hide the shaking in her limbs. The last round of stims was wearing off and _god_ , she was bone tired.

But there was too much work to do and they were out of time. That’s why she took the stims, and not because of the dreams where Reapers towered above the imagined sea of faceless Batarians. The broken bodies of colonists drenched in their liquefied friends. The clink of dog tags in a shattered helmet that dripped red onto the blindingly white landscape below. She only had so much time left to revise her reports into the perfect defense of her actions, to send off intel to relevant people and parties who could use it, call in favors owed, ask Liara—

A hand—a gentle, warm touch—at her elbow brought it all to a halt.

She gasped, and another hand found its way to the other arm.

Quiet, kind fingers rubbed against her skin, thawing her lungs, raising her out of the chill that the nightmares left behind. Her breath returned in hot, quick gulps, until the tremors stilled and her grip on the desk loosened.

Exhaustion returned in earnest, but Shepard dug up the courage to look up at the man before her. He had stood beside her come hell or high water, offered her nothing but his support, and she could not properly repay him in kind. _Damn the Reapers for forcing their hand._

Garrus shifted his hold on her, drawing Shepard’s hands up from the desk. He tilted his head as he regarded her fingers in his, losing the battle against whatever words he wanted to hold back.

“I should be able to swing a ticket back to Cipritine within the week.” Her knuckles were particularly fascinating as he rubbed them gently again and again. “I don’t know what help I’ll find, Shepard, but I’ll be ready for you when need me.” After a glance into Shepard’s eyes, Garrus began to let go.

_There was no time left to figure out any of the questions hanging between them._

Shepard followed him as he moved away, tightening her hold before he got too far. Garrus stilled but waited. He’d learned to follow her lead well enough so far.

She copied his earlier grip on hers, drawing small circles the underside of his wrists. “Stay.”

Garrus’ eyes narrowed slightly at the request. “Shepard,” he began. “I don’t think you’re well enough to—”

“I don’t mean sex, Garrus.” She shook her head at the suggestion. “It’s not that I would say no… But that’s not going to solve—shit. What I meant to say—” Shepard floundered and took a steadying breath.

She moved into his space, relaxing as his arms instinctively gathered her closer. Her hands moved to front of his carapace as an invitation, but one that could be refused if he so wanted.

“I can’t make any promises to you, Garrus. So I won’t. But we have just over 48 hours before the Normandy is due to dock at the Citadel, and I want to enjoy whatever’s left with you.” Tired as she was, Shepard smiled at the thought. “No expectations. Just us.”

Garrus returned her grin. “I think I can do that.”

The bed was still too big and the loft too comfortable, but nestled between her and the stars was a turian she could count on. And soon, Shepard fell into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> what is it about all this andromeda news that is making me rehash all the feels over these two
> 
> jesus


End file.
